


Purple Heart

by aWorkNprogress



Series: Clexa Scenes [6]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clarke will be alright eventually, Explosions, F/F, Forgive Me, Maybe - Freeform, Military Clarke, Protective Clarke, The Author Regrets Everything, War, Women in the Military, but only one, children die, everything that comes with war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 01:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aWorkNprogress/pseuds/aWorkNprogress
Summary: Clarke disobeys a direct order, she'll just have to live with the consequence of that.She just hopes Lexa will forgive her.Sequel to Call Me





	Purple Heart

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: depictions of mutilated body(s), gunfire, warfare, explosions, and wounds.
> 
> Enjoy.

After being deployed Clarke was assigned as a patrol unit for a small village near the borders of the Desert Plains that's been a constant victim of the terrorism from the Dead Foot.

The Village is small, nothing more than a few stone structures, some of which have been destroyed and are currently in the process of being repaired with her squads help. A well lies at the heart of the village, and from what Clarke can tell is for communal use. Despite the heat and hardships that the people have faced though Clarke has seen nothing but smiling faces, the kids run energetically through the streets in whatever new game they've come up with, and every grown up that passes them either gives them a nod or a small smile, sometimes they'll even gift them with sandwiches to eat, and depending on who's around they'll decline them -- they're really not  supposed to accept anything from the locals-- or they'll accept. Today they accepted.

Clarke is practically inhaling the sandwich they were offered from her place leaning against the hood of the jeep. When she hears Darnel joke from the passenger seat.

“You better slow down there Princess, hate for you to be sent home because you choked on a sandwich.”

Clarke flicks him off as she takes another bite from her sandwich this time at a much slower pace.

“Yeah, Clarke, you don't get a purple heart for sandwich choking.”

Around the food in her mouth Clarke mumbles, “You guys are dicks.”

The two crackle with laughter and finish up their own sandwiches. Clarke stuffs the last bit in with ease, and then motions for Darnel to pass her, her water canteen. The man holds it up mockingly, Clarke glares, and he holds it out for her to take, then snatches it back just before Clarke can get a hold on it.

“Darnel, I swear to god, if you don't give me that, I'm never sharing my skittles with you again!”

“Hey not cool, we had a deal.”  Darnel says and throws Clarke her canteen. “You can't go around threatening a man’s skittles woman.”

Crow just smiles at the easy banter then says, “We'll take another fifteen and then it's back to work so the others can switch out, Clarke you're on guard duty, Kyle,” He says looking towards a blonde fellow who’s spread out in the back of the jeep, “you and me will help build and Darnel you're in the pits”

The pits as they had come to call it was a small dug out rectangular shaped area within the village where bricks for construction where made. As part of their service to the village and to help speed up the process they would help the craftsman there make the concrete bricks. The work was simply but repetitive and draining on the muscles as it required transporting rocks from one side of the village to the other to be melted down into Lime and then those needed to be transported to a water tank in the pit. Then finally after there was enough concrete mixture they had to create the bricks using a mold and let them dry out before using them. Clarke herself had been in the pits only a handful of times before, it wasn't because she couldn't handle the laborious work but rather Crow knew she had a sharp eye and was a good shot and everyone felt better having her on lookout duty. The Village to their knowledge wasn't under any immediate threat but it made the stress just a little bit easier to manage for all of them.

Darnel groans, “Man, are you serious that's like the fourth time this week I've been in the pits.”

“What's wrong Darny don't like working with Toothless.” Clarke jokes.

Toothless was the craftsman in the pits, adequately nicknamed by the villagers because of his extreme lack of teeth.

Darnel glares at Clarke and points an accusing finger at her. “I'd like to see you spend hours on end with a man who raves about some mystical war lord named Heda. The man's crazy Clarke.”

“You say crazy, I say creative.” Clarke grabs her gear and starts strapping it back onto her person, they're not supposed to do that either—take their gear of and leave it lying around, they're getting complacent, to comfortable due to the lack of urgent reports from the chain of command. “Besides it's better than looking at nothing but dirty, sand, and rocks for miles on end.”

Darnel returns the favor from earlier and flicks Clarke off, and then hops out of his seat to grab his own gear.

“How's Lexa?” Crow questions.

As it turned out Clarke was the only one that had someone waiting for her back on home turf. At first, she never really talked about the brunette, and Clarke would be a liar if she said she wasn't possessive. A small part of her just didn't want to share the brunette. While not at home Lexa was Clarke's little slice of heaven who’d want to share that. However, as she started to bond with her squad, and they began to become more like a family rather than a bunch of strangers thrown together in the middle of the desert she began to learn their stories. They were all unique and special.

Darnel, who as it turns out was the same man she flew in from Polis with, but they had been bounced around before finally landing in this squad together, was single and an orphan, he had smarts and probably could have gotten into any college with ease but decided he wanted to join the military.

Crow, her squad leader, on the other hand was made for the military, he was a brute, a hulking man who came from a long line of military experts and his father was a Captain in the Marines, while his mother was a medic for the Navy and from what she's managed to gather he's the first to go into the army.

Then there's Kyle, he's quiet--shy she thinks, and the greenest to the game of them all, they treat him like a little brother, which can be more than said for what he had back home. He had a mother and a brother, but the two of them had been manipulative and as he got older their relationship had just only gotten more and more toxic. Lexa, Clarke thinks, has a soft spot for the kid because when she sends them _all_ care packages she always puts a few extra twinkies, his favorite Chapstick--Clarke just gets stuck with blueberry-- and comic books in his.

The other three of their group, Cooper, Ashley, and Quinton aren't as close to her and had already formed a bond together because they had been stationed in the village for some time before Clarke had come, but even they get something from Lexa. When it comes to squads they're small but considering they're just a relief team it was to be expected.

Clarke slips on her glasses before looking back at Crow. “She's good, in her last letter she said she got a promotion, she'll be in charge of a bunch of the newbies that come in.”

He nods, he’s always so serious, it kind of reminds her of Gustus, “Give her my congratulations, in your next letter. Also thank her for the Vaporub.”

Clarke just laughs. “I'll try to remember to mention it.”

Clarke kept her promise like she said she would, as soon as she had landed she had given Lexa a call, and since then for the past three months it's been a blend of letters and video calls. They don't get that great of service out here so usually they have to rely on simply passing back and forth letters.

Lexa's letters are just like talking to her, they're detailed and talk about everything from what she did that morning to things about Anya and Raven or how Bellamy and Echo are doing. Sometimes with her letter will be notes from Octavia and Lincoln or a picture of Lexa at some event.

They're much different from what Clarke writes.

Clarke never writes about anything happening where she is or what's going on with the 'War', instead she writes about how she misses Lexa's green eyes that sparkle like emeralds or how she could really go for some Ben & Jerry’s, sometimes she'll talk about what she wants to do when she gets back. She's sure Lexa's picked up on the fact because she never asks about it and never mentions it, it's an unspoken agreement between them. Letters are for them. The only thing about sending letters though is the time it takes for them to get to each other so in the end in the span of three months they've been able to talk three times and exchange letters at least four.

They exchange a little more banter but after that they're break is over. They have to wait for the other four to return before they split off, and during that time they make sure everything is in working order, the last thing they want to do is be caught with their pants down if there just so happens to be an attack.

The house they're working on is in the village square, some of the walls have holes in them, and the inside is filled with debris, over all it doesn't look to rough but there's some patch work that needs to be handled before it'll be in working order for someone to live in again.

Clarke sets up her lookout spot near the well, it's got a good lay of the land and can see from every direction to the edges of the village.

They work for hours and Clarke does her own small little patrol, checking the entrances and the hills in the distant --with her scope of course-- for any sign of suspicious activity. She's just gotten back from her second round of that and is taking a sip of water from her canteen when she feels something hit her leg. Looking over she sees a soccer ball, worn down at the edges and the glossy plastic of it peeling away.

Across the way the kids that seem to be the lifeblood of the city have all stopped to see what she'll do, none of them have ever interacted with them only the adults, and she figures their parents have told them keep away.

Clarke caps her water and then bends down to pick up the ball. She used to play soccer, way back when she was younger for a team called the ground warriors? grounder warlords? it was something along those lines. She had been good or at least she thought she had been. Regardless once she entered high school she had quit because of freaking Stacy and her flat face and nasally voice, god Clarke just wants to-

Clarke takes a deep breath and holds it then releases it. She’s getting off track. She walks over to the kids a few of them scurry a few distances off giggling, the way kids do when they're being brats. One of them, a boy maybe around the age of nine or ten, bronzed skin and long awkward limbs he hasn't come into yet. His hair is black and covered in dust. As she gets closer Clarke slings her gun around and down over her shoulder so there's no chance it could--if it were to go off- hit any of the children.

“Uhh, here's your ball.” Clarke holds the ball out and the boy slowly takes it, his green eyes so much like Lexa's sparkle back at her.

When she turns to leave however, the sound of giggling gets louder her, she feels something hit the back of her legs and bounce off. Turning around she finds the ball rolling back towards the little kid, who kicks it again at Clarke.

It's instinct, and muscle memory that has her leg shooting out and catching the ball before it can roll past her. With the tip of her toe she digs underneath the sphere and kicks it up, into her waiting hands. The boy grins and waves her over.

_Okay_ , Clarke tells herself looking around the village, no one’s watching her outside of the giggling children and a few adults in passing who give her an inquisitive look. She just finished a round, so she's positive there's no one around, a little break won't do any harm. Besides she reasons _you're here for relief aid, children need attention as well not just broken and destroyed buildings._

Clarke walks back over to the kid and bends so they're at eye level though he's not too far from being her own height.

“What's your name kid?”

The boy grins a mega million watt, and now Clarke can see that he's missing a few of his teeth, “Arrow.”

“That's a cool name, I wish my mom would have named me something cool like that” Clarke smiles when he laughs, unrestrained, carefree, “I'm Specialist Clarke Griffin. You ever seen someone do a head stall?”

Arrow shakes his head, "What's that."

Clarke smiles, and motions for him to step back so she'll have some space. Clarke kicks the ball around a little bit getting a feel for it before kicking it up to begin juggling it with her feet. When she notices Arrow getting a little impatient she holds her hand out and then kicks the ball up high. Quickly Clarke gets under it and when it comes down she goes with it to keep it from bouncing off and then begins to balance it on her forehead.

In this position she can't see what's going on but she hears clapping and gasps around her. Finally, after maybe letting her ego get stroked more than it needs to be--it's a pretty basic skill-- she lets the ball drop into her waiting hands.

Immediately she’s attacked by overzealous Arrow, “That was cool! Teach me!”

This starts up a clamor and soon Clarke's surrounded by children, clinging to her arms and legs asking to be taught.

“Hey! Hey! I'll teach everyone, calm down.”

Clarke spend maybe the next two hours trying to teach the kids how to head stall, only to realize that none of them know the basics so has to start with learning simple foot maneuvers and the how to foot stall first. Of them all Arrow latches onto the skills the quickest.  However, kicking a ball around though can only hold the attention of kids for so long, soon once again it's only her and Arrow. On another failed attempt at foot stooling he sends the ball flying towards the well and runs after it.

Clarke watches as his long limbs quickly catch up with the ball, and bend over to pick it up.

She also watches, eyes widening and arms stretching out as if she could pull him back in, as a large missile suddenly makes impact with the well and send dirt flying.

“RPG!”

She only has enough time to cover her eyes before she's thrown back by the impact. She's dazed for a while, her brain trying to make sense of everything that's just happened.

Clarke gains her senses back slowly, the first to come is her vision which is fuzzy though it could also just be the dust in the air, either way beside her just a few feet away she can see some mangled form awkward limbs twisted up and jutted out, they're bloodied and covered in burns, one of their arms is missing, blood pooling on the ground and into their jet-black hair. The next to come is her hearing as the ringing finally fades out, gunfire fills the air, she can also hear shouting, Crows voice and a few others in a language she's not sure. Taste comes third and its blood, at some time during the impact she must have bitten her tongue. Then finally touch and it's to the shaking of Kyle's hands on her shoulders, grabbing her by her vest, and dragging her across the ground.

“Clarke!” there’s a shake to Kyle’s voice and she’s sure it’s because this is his first time in any real combat.

Once Kyle's dragged her to safety she finally gains a few of her motor skills back. With a groan she wipes the blood dripping into her eye.

“What happened?” Clarke wonders.

With shaking fingers, Kyle presses gauze to the cut on Clarke's forehead. “The Dead Foot come in from the hillside. Crow wants us to meet him in the house they were working on. Can you move? How are you feeling?”

Clarke groans, spits out the blood that's been filling her mouth “I should be good, nothing but scrapes and bruises, I wasn't too close to the impact.”

But Arrow had been, was he alright, did he get hit? Clarke shakes her head, she can't think about him right now. With Kyles help they get Clarke back to her feet. She hears footstep to their left and she snaps her gun up, and as soon as she sees the black and white tunics their opposition is known for wearing she doesn't think, just acts. With a squeeze of the trigger she sends two shots out, and the person falls to the ground unmoving-- _dead_ , Clarke corrects.

As the more experienced of the two Clarke takes point in leading them back to the house, it dangerous as most of the fighting going on is happening in the center where the well was, and the house they were working on faced straight into it.

“Crow said to take the back entrance, knock twice when you get to the door.” Kyle says as they're rounding one of the corner. Clarke doesn't see them, but Kyle must have because the next thing she knows another body is dropping from the roof next them to the ground-- _dead_.

After that they don't have many confrontations with the terrorist ( _people_ ). When they get to the back door, Clarke knocks twice like they were told to, and she's met with a gun barrel pointed at her chest. Clarke’s heart freezes for a second, did they go to the wrong house? Or did the others already get over powered? When Ashley realizes it’s, her she lowers her weapon, and Clarke sighs in relief, she opens the door up more and they slip in.

It turns out Clarke was the last to the party as the entire team is already in there, Crow is crouched in one corner talking into their radio, Ashley retakes her position guarding the back door, and Quinton, Darnel, and Cooper are crouched under the two windows they have returning fire when they can. Everyone seems in good working order, only a few scraps like Clarke.

“I've called for backup ETA is 10 minutes, until then we've been ordered to maintain our position.” Crow says over the gunfire putting away the radio.

Clarke quickly takes up position next to Cooper under one of the windows.

It seems like forever they hold that position returning fire, they're lucky a grenade or another RPG was never shot at them or they'd all be dead. Clarke has just downed ( _killed_ ) another terrorist ( _person)_ when through her scope she watches a small child, a girl jet black hair and dirt covered clothing and one of the ones that she had taught earlier, running out past the side of their position towards the mangled form Clarke had come to consciousness by.

Clarke tells herself it's because she was worried about the child, that it's because this village has been through so much death and so much destruction that they don't need the death of a child on their hands, but she knows deep down that's not true. If she's being honest with herself about why she leaves her position to run after they child despite her squad leader yelling at her, why she disobeys’ s a direct order and puts her teammates--her family-- in danger it’s because when that child ran past she saw sparkling emerald green eyes, and brown wavy hair and if that's child voice had sounded like a young Lexa screaming it's because Clarke made it that way. Because the only way she stays sane out here is to try and find something of Lexa--of home in this desert god awful place.

Clarke gets to the girl alright with no problem. And the girl is crying kneeled next to the mangled form crying out “Arrow!”

Of course, when Clarke wraps her arms around her and pulls her away, she fights her, squirming in her arms. She's a child though and Clarke is a soldier with training and it doesn't take much strength at all to pick the girl up and dart back towards her squads’ position. Clarke's body is curled in protectively around the girl, and this time she takes her time getting there.

She's close enough to hear crow screaming bloody murder at her. “Griffin get your ass back here right fucking now, I swear to god!”

Clarke has almost made it through the door when she feels pain shoot up her spine. She drops the child who scrambles through the door and back towards Ashley. Her feet won't move and she's falling towards the ground, she lands halfway through the doorway. Hands grab her and pull her over to the side and she can't help the cry of pain that comes out.

“Griffin what's wrong, where does it hurt.”

In the back ground she can already hear Crow talking quickly into the radio again, “We have one injured, ready a medic team.”

“Clarke focus come on tell me what's wrong?” Darnel says shaking her gently.

Clarke groans around the pain, turns her head and sees the child she just saved curled up green eyes watching her, judging her. Then she turns back to Darnel, his dark eyes staring at her full of concern, his hand holding her close to his chest.

“Darn..Darny I can't feel my legs.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who couldn't tell Arrow's dead, I tried to make that obvious by using the same adjectives to describe the body and then again with the child (Who you can assume is either a family friend or his sister either works).
> 
> Also for those wondering about the use of (dead) or (Person) it's suppose to give insight to Clarke's mentality to everything. I think that during war people begin to try and act like the people they're fighting against aren't human or a person, and even though in Clarke's case (and a lot of other people) they try and give these people different names, they're still people and your conscious knows this. All of which Clarke will have come to terms with, in addition to the consequences of her own actions.
> 
> Apologies for anything in here that people find offensive, and if you find anything wrong with their actions in a military sense please let me know, I'm very serious when it comes to make sure things are depicted right.


End file.
